happens, my dear. I
enclose you a cutting from the _People_ sent by Aunt H---- about the
Saddlers' Co. All the Lauries belong to it. My Father was Master more
than once, and also Uncle Alfred. A bright beautiful springlike day,
but a little cold. The pudding arrived yesterday; many thanks for it.
Our dinner also consisted of smoked sprats from Major Baker; cake and
tinned peaches from Capt. Wright; figs and ginger from Mr. Brown, so
we did not do badly. We had an adventure last night with a wagon which
contained our little all. The man drove carelessly, and the wagon fell
into a ditch 3 feet deep in water. After carefully unloading it, I
gave them a pair of horses and 50 men to get it out. They pulled it up
all right, but it next fell into the ditch on the other side, where it
had to be left till the morning, when we sent out just at dawn and
brought it in. All this kept us late for dinner, as you may
imagine....

IN BILLETS.
_February 20th, 1915._

No letters at all, as, owing to the submarines, we are dodging the
mails across somewhere else, I expect. The great difficulty is to
catch your submarine, though you may see him often enough. The craze
for going boating in these vessels will shortly die out amongst the
Germans, I fancy, when they find out the number of boats that do not
come home! At present they are looking out for one or two which I
understand will not reappear, and thus they have to keep ships
cruising about in search of them with petrol and food. Of course these
are neutral ships; but it adds to our chance of finding out where and
how these knaves draw their supplies! I have heard that it is from
Ireland; but I expect the Government knows more than it lets out.
Yesterday the Germans shelled us for an hour and a half; they just
missed us, and killed a poor civilian behind the houses instead. They
have increased our leave by one day now; still, whether they will
grant mine a second time is uncertain, but I continue to hope. The
awkward part is that they never let me know in time to write and tell
you. Supposing it is granted, I may arrive on the night of February
25th; but if I do get across I must do a little shopping in London
first, and fit myself out with some things I badly want: then I shall
come on to you as soon as possible. It is rather a bore that the war
will not stop, and I am annoyed that I have be